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aftr_ooc2019-12-28 12:15 pm
lifeaftr_mods) wrote in aftr_ooc2019-12-28 12:15 pm
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TEST DRIVE MEME ( 030 )
Test Drive Meme #30
Hello, and welcome to LifeAftr! We're pleased that you're expressing an interest in the game. Here, you can test the waters, gauge how your character may fare in the world of LifeAftr, and even gain some in-game incentives, if you so choose.
Reserves and Applications are always open, and are processed every weekend.
Two important notes:
Reserves and Applications are always open, and are processed every weekend.
1. LifeAftr's test drives take place on the island of Mu, which exists apart from the real world and possesses a dream-like quality that characters are innately aware of from the moment they appear on its shores. No need to panic or fret. Dreams are odd things, after all - and anything can happen in them. Why would anyone question where their mind chooses to wander in its sleep?
2. Due to the nature of Mu, threads in our test drive can not only be accepted as thread samples in your application, but can be accepted as game canon as well. In fact, certain choices your character makes in Mu have the potential to bear in-game consequences, largely in the form of test drive reward items.
Polar Opposites
Adventurers in the waking world have had to contend with the temperamental island of Monsun, which has recently undergone some rather drastic changes. These changes have now become all the more evident in Mu. You see, upon waking here, you're likely to end up on one of two sides.
The east side is a frozen wasteland, rife with glaciers and beasts that you could expect to see in an ice age - woolly mammoths, sabre-toothed tigers, and dozens of others besides. While they're not innately hostile creatures, you should probably keep your distance...unless your idea of a good time is getting into a brisk fight with one or more of these beasts. Nothing like a good brawl to warm up the blood, after all!
What's more is that your body may also begin to reflect physical properties inherent to the region. This can be as simple as a thin layer of semi-permanent frost that settles over you, and as complex as sprouting icicle horns and spines all over your body. These changes can be slow to emerge or extremely painful, or relatively painless and immediate. If you get the odd ice-based power to shoot icicles out of your hands or slick the ground beneath you with frost on top of it, well...that's just a bonus, isn't it?
You can also expect to be pursued by the odd monstrous entity on top of these environmental hazards - so tread carefully!
There are benefits to this, however. Just like with the east side, sticking around on the heat-blasted part of this world may cause your body to reflect physical properties inherent to the region. Whether it's a fiery shimmer bathing your silhouette, your skin becoming blackened and veined with magma, or any other variation besides, is up to you. These changes can be slow to emerge or extremely painful, or relatively painless and immediate. And, of course, if you pick up a fire-based power or two in the interim, that's just a bonus. Maybe you can shoot fire from your hands now, or make whips of lava out of thin air. Pretty badass, right? Totally makes this potentially traumatic transformation worth it, right?
Well, we thought so.
Can't Let It Go
It is in the thick of winter, and while the tropical islands on LifeAftr are only intermittently reflecting this, the dreamworld of Mu is the exception here. You'll have to be careful when braving these thick, high-piled snowdrifts, however. You might see the occasional lump of snow that looks like someone nearby has made a couple of snowmen. That's nice, right? A good sign of civilization?
Not so. These are, in fact, creatures known as snowgoons, and they are very much hostile. So not only is it very cold, but you're being hunted by terrifying snowmen on top of it. They are intrinsically hostile, incredibly lethal, and what's more? They are relentless.
The best way to deal with these creatures is to keep them at a distance as much as possible; snowgoons are only really effective at close range. They can be picked off fairly easily from a distance, though we recommend figuring out some kind of way of generating heat to keep them at bay. These things, true to their appearance, despise fire and heat.
Hope you brought a flamethrower!
Mistletoe? More Like Mistlefoe
Ah, mistletoe. A long-standing wintertime tradition, often used to facilitate all sorts of romantical shenanigans throughout history. This isn't necessarily requisite, or forced, fortunately. In this wintery wonderland, most mistletoe is in its uncut, untendered state - little more than a parasitic fuzz clinging to the branches of the trees overhead.
You have a roughly equal chance of running into two different types of mistletoe. There is, of course, the conventional mistletoe, wherein you will more or less immediately experience the urge to express affection to whoever else is nearest. This can translate to romantic, familial, or platonic affection - cuddling, kissing, hand-holding, hugging, or just plain being nice to them, as per your comfort level. This may be a mutual affection...or it might not.
There is also the other type of mistletoe. Instead of a one true soulmate, this type will select your one true foemate.
Unfortunately for you, these two types of mistletoe are virtually indistinguishable from one another. It's entirely possible for one person to be affected by the former and another person to be affected by the latter simultaneously.
Good luck.
( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )
The Demon That Comes When You're A Tad Too Edgy | An Incredibly Obscure Canon
A horrendously volatile, burnt-out landscape doesn't bring much happiness with it. One could be forgiven for looking out across the desolation and finding the dreary atmosphere sinking into the very recesses of their SOUL, pulling their mood down to smoldering embers of what once may have been mistaken for... happiness? Idealistic, wonderous scenes of familial intent that made one feel at Home.
For Chara, this place was none of these things. But sometime between observing their surroundings and resigning themself to the fact that this is, in fact, happening- again, they'd discovered something entirely unexpected.
They can shoot fire from their hands.
It's not the controlled flames of the woman they had once called mother, capable of redirection and regulated temperatures, but those are most certainly giant balls of Fuck You shooting out of their palms, and though there is a veritable menagerie of complications and issues they could be ruminating over, actions they should take, next steps that will undoubtedly be uncomfortable for everyone involved, Chara Dreemurr is, for a time, more of one thing than any other thing.
They're a child who can shoot giant Fuck Off balls out of their God Damn Hands.
Their unbridled joy at this fact can be heard for miles. And if the near-continuous cackles and whoops of enthusiasm don't catch attention, the violent explosions overhead as Giant Fuck You balls of God Damn Fire collide with floating pieces of blackened rock may just do the trick.
It's the little things.
Can't Let It Go
[There is possibly such a thing as enjoying yourself too much.
They should be running for their life. The cold should be biting at their heels, threatening both life and limb as they attempt to find somewhere, anywhere, that could be called safe. Warm. Warm and safe, the very basic need for shelter something Mu appears rather insistent on reminding them they still have requirements of. They ignore it. There are rather haunting creatures in their midst, looming out of the snowstorm with a suddenness that demands a spike in their already heightened levels of paranoia, until their entire body screams with the need to lash out, to take charge of things before things take charge of them. Every atom of their being demands control.
Who are they to ignore that?
They may not have flamethrowers, but their knives are a constant companion. Their knives were enchanted years ago, by a man in a castle whose name they recall perfectly, who stayed long enough to cause some damage, and no longer. Their knives are capable of wreathing in flames at the mere twist of their wrists, and boy howdy-
Chara doesn't need to run. They are. If they don't, their quarry has an unfortunate habit of blending into their surroundings, which really doesn't provide the same satisfaction as driving a flaming knife into an instantly melting face.
There's a possibility that they're enjoying themself, far too much.
But as Chara rushes towards a new target, flaming blade raised high, they at least have the good grace not to immediately stab at anyone a little less... frozen.]
Awfully bad weather for a walk, is it not? [The smile that splits their face, ear to ear, is about as welcoming as the flaming blades in each hand.] One would be tempted to believe you want something unfortunate to befall you.
[They seem a little too chipper at the notion.]
polar perfection
She doesn't seem particularly shocked to hear the laughter that follows the loud-incredibly loud-explosions. It's a loud surprise and that's their trademark, but it's jarring-
Weird, to feel like she's back on the island and they're with her again. It's always a bizarre, nostalgic thing that takes her hours to shake after she wakes up.
But for now, their fireballs catch her eye as they pierce across the sky like comets.]
You're a wizard now-do it again! Make more stars!
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They don't want to know where those cookies have been, if so, so Chara won't ask. Turning to her, they bow, as low and dramatic as they please, because this is their dream. They're going to enjoy the freedom while they have it.]
As the lady wishes!
[Some of the rocks above still have a glow to them- dying embers, or a molten hot core. They aim for those in particular, whirling about as they let off a rapid round of fireballs. Not all of them make their mark- some miss pretty badly, and we're not going to talk about those ones.
The ones that do strike true could almost be mistaken for fireworks, with all the little sparks and hot flames they spray across the sky.]
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And when it's over, at least temporarily, she picks up a rock and-]
Okay, I made a bunch of wishes, so you make a wish-hurry, hurry! This shooting star is gonna go away.
[Right into the bushes probably??? Because she's literally just tossing a rock. Look, she's helping, okay? She doesn't feel like pulling out her fire skills right now. All that happens is that she burns herself and that's the real tragedy.
But whatever!! Dank rock is flying sans fire towards the target they had been aiming for. Make a wish you little dream goblin.]
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There you go. One wish, sent out into the cosmos.
[Not really. They have no wishes to make, not anymore. But why be depressing about this.
They’re here. She’s here. That’s about as good as things get. They stretch their arms over their head, relishing the motion. Who would have believed they could miss having their own body? Autonomy is a dream.]
Well then, wishes have been made. What happens now?
Polar Opposites
She's running as far and as fast as her hooves can take her, practically sobbing with each hurried gallop, not at all noticing that her steps are forming a soft bit of frost in her wake, and that the bottom on her hooves have grown slightly white-blue...like ice. She hears laughter, a child's, and sees bursts of flame. Oh, thank goodness! Maybe there are dragons here...and she can actually talk to them, find Dragon Lord Ember, and a safe spot to gather herself. This is terrible...her friends aren't even here to back her up, and she feels so...so exposed and scared and--]
Oh, d-dear...pardon me. Excuse me? I don't mean to intrude, but--...o-oh.
[Well, that's certainly not a dragon. Once again, Fluttershy's not sure what this creature is, but all the one's she's met have been....hahah...ah. Hm. Skidding to a halt, she whinnies softly, immediately ducking her head to look as small and nonthreatening as she can, wings folded tight to her sides. What she doesn't notice is the small, but slowly growing horn on her head. An icicle, by the looks of it. Honestly, the stress headache is probably mingling together with the throbbing migraine from the protrusion, to be perfectly honest.]
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Not them, you. She makes an awful lot of noise on her approach, capturing their attention before she even speaks to them. They don't pay much attention until she does. Were she an enemy, an attack would have announced the beginning of a much welcome battle- it's almost disappointing to see her cowering away, clearly terrified... of them? Of their burning surroundings, a neverending landscape of fire and brimstone? Of herself?
Everything, possibly. They don't pity her- pity is reserved for what you hate, for things lower than low, things like Sans, Mettaton; beyond salvation- but it is truly a close call.]
On the contrary, I was simply killing time.
[No more Fuck Off balls, alas. They have the feeling she'd lose her voice if they kept this up. They sigh, hair sparking. Eyes swirling like molten lava.]
May I help you?
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[Oh, thank goodness this creature is actually willing to talk! Fluttershy already feels a great weight lifted from her back, though she's still not...quite sure what sort of creature this even is. It's not a dragon, that's certain, but none of her deep knowledge of critters and creatures of all kinds even pings the radar of what this person could be. The closest she can think of is perhaps some sort of golem, but still...not quite all there.
Well, that doesn't mean she can't be polite! It's just an opportunity to meet a new creature and make friends! Haha...that'd be easier said than done, if she weren't in such a precarious position, and her anxiety levels weren't already through the roof. Oh, if only one of her friends were here to break the ice...she's never been good at this sort of thing by herself.]
Oh, I'm so very sorry if I interrupted you, but...um. I-I think I may be lost you see and-- [She swallows a bit, looking over her shoulder just in case, to make sure she wasn't followed by any of the lumbering giants out for her flank.] W-Well...it's a bit much for one pony by herself, and...I was hoping, m-maybe--that is. Um...if you knew the area, you could point me in the direction of, perhaps...someplace to stay? I-I think I was on my way to the Dragonlands, but I can't recall...
Can't Let It Go
[Michael's dressed only in his usual suit, with no coat or anything, but he seems like the cold doesn't bother him anyway. As for this, he doesn't have much experience with human children. On the other hand, pretty much all demons tend to go through a "spooky child" phase at some point or another, so this all seems pretty par for the course to him.]
I just figured I'd clean up around here a little. [He is, in fact, literally holding a flamethrower.] Nice fire knives.
eeeeyyyy Lu!!!
Or they'd been a little busy making a nuisance of themself. And looking at that flamethrower, looks like he is, as well.
Their hands twitch with a sudden Need.]
Very considerate of you.
Is that real?
eyyyyyyyyyy!
[He grins, patting the flamethrower's tank. Michael might recall, vaguely, having seen them out and about before, but he never spoke to them so it hardly matters.]
For now, at least - although I did make it run without fuel. Running out of gas is for chumps. Can you do fire knives, outside of dreams?
<3 <3 <3
[Truly, genuinely delightful. They couldn’t smile any wider if they tried.]
As a matter of fact, I have multiple knives enchanted in this manner. I take it this wondrous creation is only a figment of Mu’s powers?
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
I had it earlier, but it must be gone by now. Part of how that dimension screwed up my powers - anything I make vanishes after a day. And anything this complex makes me tired, it is so annoying.
[Being tired sucks, and so does sleeping. But even though he's doing both right now, he's not irritated; this is all one of the best possible outcomes! At least if he visits Mu during a nap, it's not time completely wasted.
Boy, this kid seems into fire. Michael's grown a lot of moral scruples lately, but he's still missing a lot of the practical ones a mortal might have:]
You wanna try it?
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[From they way they're still eyeing it off, they'd enjoy borrowing it now, too. His answer comes in them immediately reaching out a hand, the fire of their knife dissipating before it's sheathed.
Sorry dude. Borrowing goes one way.]
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Trigger's there, it's pretty straightforward. Does have a bit of a kick, so watch that.
polar perfection
[He's so goddamn tired. His eyes currently burn like coals, the skin of his face and arms a coal-gray, and his hands look like there are live embers glistening just beneath the ashen pallor of his skin. He hasn't been reveling in the change in the slightest, mostly because being here, while marginally better than being on the other side, tends to suck for this exact reason.]
[They're not real. He knows they're not real. It's just so much easier to trick himself into thinking they are, just for a moment.]
[Even if they're...acting an awful lot like he'd expect them to act, if they had access to a shitload of impromptu firepower. Emphasis on the fire.]
[Tim peers down a precarious incline of blackened rock, watching this go down from a distance.]
Uh...hey, [he says uncertainly.] This is new.
[His presumed "fondest dream" taking on the appearance of the setting, for one.]
well you're here so now it really *is* perfection
Not quite as attractive as the indulgent, purposeful shot they let off, obliterating another hunk of rock to Tim's left. Not too close, but even if it was, would it jar him?
He already knows they wouldn't hurt him on purpose. Right?]
Quite. I must admit, this world really is pulling out all the stops to impress me. [The most important stop, at least. The stop that makes them feel wildly powerful. A little breathless from their indulgence, they run their fingers through their hair, frowning at the uniform length. They'd cut it when they were here, hadn't they? It was choppy, brushing the top of their ears and back of their neck.
Well. They'd fix that soon.]
How long has it been, Timothy?
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[But then, he just saw them, didn't he. And a part of him knows that they're not real, not really, that they're just a conjuration made real by Monsun, because it can tell that they're one of the three people that he wants more than anything to see right now. They're one of the three people whose associations with him are, at this point, uncomplicated enough for him to be stupidly selfish in wanting little more than to see them again.]
[His memory is imperfect. He's certain that he could never remember them the way they are, not completely. Pale imitations are just as well, though. This one speaks just as wryly as the real thing, all clipped tones and formality. Or maybe his mind is just coming apart quicker than he'd thought.]
[Hands up. Ready for the boom. It detonates a chunk of rock and sends shards of the stuff spinning at him. Again, it feels...real.]
[He just slides down the incline, catching at the rock to steady himself, and fights the urge to smile at the apparition that he knows this must be.]
Like time's even real in a place like this.
[Is it ever?]
Good look for you, though.
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Yes. Quite possibly. He has new memories here, after all. New memories, just like-
Chara tilts their head back, eyes closing. There's a taste of finality in the back of their throat, a sense of rightness to all this they hadn't had before. Who knows how long it will last.]
Must you dance around the answer until I ask more directly? Or have you forgotten how to tell the truth, in my absence?
[Really, Tim, you know better.]
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[God.]
[They sound so real.]
[It's fucked up that he's doing this, isn't it? It has to be a little fucked up. That he's letting this happen. That he's willing to just sit and let an illusion run roughshod over him.]
Depends on...what you mean. I mean, it's only been a couple weeks since I've seen you.
[You know. The reconstruction from his memory.]
[One of the people he wants most desperately to see.]
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[Still dancing, Tim. Get to the point. Their lips purse, arms crossing over their chest. A couple of weeks since he’s seen something, though perhaps the how and why of it all is too much for a simple rerun.
Weeks since that means longer since them. That’s an issue- something that bites until they brush the hurt away, tucking it under a thick blanket of dull acceptance. You can’t control everything. There’s a line between what they can and can’t take responsibility for.]
Time is hardly linear in my world, Timothy. You already know that.
[Give them something to work with.]
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[The reality of this isn't helping. The way they feel like they're really there, sound like they're really there - he has to look away but he can't because he's not...he shouldn't do that. Not to them. But they're not real. But why should that matter.]
[He grimaces. His shoulders hunch a little, and his eyes slide away.]
[How's he supposed to accept that they're not some figment?]
I just wish you were real.
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They said they’d come back. Isn’t he the very last person who should be doubting their determination?
He is. And yet- he is. They won’t lie; the fact sours any contents in their stomach, leaving a harsh knot of anger just below their breastbone. It takes strict, conscious effort to keep such feelings contained.]
But there’s something in the waking world that can... if you remember this tomorrow.
Have you moved any of the rocks in my garden?
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[That they'll be there when he wakes up.]
[That plateau of no hope whatsoever is easier to manage, overall, than the spike and trough of allowing himself to believe in something impossible. Even for a moment. Even if they are impossible, even if they do impossible things by nature, by rote.]
No. I've been taking care of it, just...y'know, in case you come back.
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Can't let it go
They aren't in his favor.
But then he sees his opportunity. The glint of flame is unmistakable and the wielder looks... promising.
"Oh I do want something unfortunate to happen, just not to me." Omega chuckles and returns Chara's grin with his own. Yes, he likes these odds much better.
"I brought company by the way. I'm sure you've met." He gestures to the snowgoons who've been so frustratingly persistent in trailing him.